In This Angel Town
by fireflower314
Summary: Back in May, Lizzie spent some time offscreen visiting Jonathan and Sarah. This is a version of what could have happened. Pairings: past Bizzie, Jizzie undertones.


Disclaimer: I have no share in the ownership of Guiding Light, and no profit is being made from this story. Please don't sue.

* * *

In This Angel Town

The apartment building isn't exactly ritzy, but she wasn't expecting it to be. Jonathan and Sarah don't need much room, and he'd made it clear that he doesn't make much money while he's on the run. Had Lizzie gone with them she would have chosen a nicer place to live than this, but as long as it's vermin-free she won't complain.

She looks down at the paper in her hand one more time, even though she already knows the address printed on it by heart. The address that'll lead her to Sarah. It seems too good to be true.

Before she knows it, she's inside, standing in front of Jonathan and Sarah's door. She knows quickly and waits, clutching her designer purse, trying not to think of all the ways that this could go wrong.

The door opens slightly, and Jonathan peers out through the crack. His hair's longer than it had been when she last saw him. It suits him. "Come on, quick," he says, pulling her inside.

He shuts the door behind her, and they stare at each other. During the last few months, with all the drama with Bill and Alan, Sarah's survival had been a stark, vivid reality that she held onto tightly, but Jonathan had begun to feel like a dream. She reaches out abruptly, lets her hand drop almost right away, but he notes the gesture and smiles.

"Happy mother's day," he says.

And, just like last time, the ugliness of their past just doesn't matter. She laughs, suddenly, and launches herself into his arms. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she says, voice muffled against him.

He runs a hand over her hair. "That's what I like to hear."

She holds on longer than she should, but she can't help it. Just being with him is reassuring, and always has been- well, other than the many times that they've nearly (or sometimes literally) come to blows. Maybe because she knows that he'll give her advance warning before he turns on her. Trust based on a lack of trust.

"Where's Sarah?" she asks eagerly, a smile crossing her face as she says her daughter's name. Her daughter, who's so very much alive. Her miracle.

"She's taking a nap right now, actually," Jonathan tells her. "But you can go look in at her, if you want. She's in there." He points out a door, and she doesn't think twice before going inside.

The bedroom's small, but Jonathan's bed and Sarah's portable playpen fit inside. Sarah's sleeping in the playpen, curled up on her side, a blanket flung half off her and her thumb tucked into her mouth. Lizzie bites back a quiet sob and crosses the room for a closer look.

Sarah's in jeans and a short-sleeved green shirt, an outfit that suits her well and was clearly chosen by Jonathan. Unbidden, Lizzie finds herself imagining what it would be like if she lived with them; she can just see herself and Jonathan in some department store, arguing over the practicality of buying Sarah skirts and dresses and tiny little dressy shoes.

Her hair's longer and she's grown so much over the last two months. Two more months that Lizzie's missed out on.

She wishes that Sarah would open her eyes, but knows not to wake her. Instead, she just kneels there, fingers clutching the side of the playpen, watching her little girl dream.

* * *

"And you're sure nobody followed you?" Jonathan asks over dinner- pizza and beer for the adults and healthier fare for Sarah.

"I'm positive," Lizzie says for the third time, with all the patience she can muster. "I know how to ditch tails, and Alan can't afford that anymore, anyway."

He grins at the reminder. "That's right, Alan's a pauper now," he says with unholy glee. "Wearing flannel and living at Company…" He bursts out laughing. "Man, I would give anything to be able to see that."

She shrugs a shoulder. "It's not that great."

"Lizzie. Come on. After everything he's done, losing everything is the least he deserves."

"I know," she says quietly. She sets her half-eaten slice of pizza aside. Her appetite, which had actually been back to normal when the meal started, was gone yet again. "I want to hate him. It would be easier. But- he's my granddad, Jonathan. I just can't, especially not after-" She cuts off, but it's too late.

"Not after what?" he asks sharply, and she can tell already that no matter how much she might insist, he won't let her slip go.

"I'll tell you later," she says. She doesn't want to now, not when she's finally with her daughter again. So she strokes Sarah's hair and talks quietly to her instead, ignoring Jonathan's unyielding stare.

* * *

Lizzie helps put Sarah to bed, a routine she and Jonathan fell into rather quickly during his recent stay in Springfield. The toddler nods off quickly, and her parents each kiss her good-night one last time before walking quietly back out to the living room.

Then Jonathan grabs Lizzie's arm. "Okay, talk," he orders in an undertone- the walls are pretty thin, after all. "What's going on with you and Alan? Does he know you're here?"

She gapes at him. "No! I would never tell him about this!"

He snorts. "Right, because you have such a great track record where Alan's concerned."

"Are you serious?" she demands indignantly, tugging her arm free. "After what I did for you last time-"

"I know, and I'm grateful, but you have to admit…"

All the fight goes out of her, because what's the point in arguing? He's right. "Alan and I are working together to get Spaulding back," she says quietly.

"What?" he snaps, and she holds up her hands before he can invade her personal space. "Lizzie, how can you help him get anything back? Losing Spaulding is the least he deserves."

"No," she says firmly. "You might be right. Maybe he should be poor for the rest of his life. But not because Dinah and Bill got greedy and tricked him into giving it up by _impersonating my dad_."

Jonathan's shock is written all over his face. Then he slowly grins. "Dinah did that? Wow, I knew she was good, but-"

She slaps his arm, hard. "You're not listening, Jonathan! If he goes down, it should be because of us. Because he deserves to for what he did. Not because of money. I had to- and Bill, he- I thought-" She blinks back sudden tears.

Jonathan's not smiling anymore. "So much for true love," he mutters. She nods, shoulders slumping.

He puts a hand on her arm. "I won't say I told you so."

"Thanks."

"Much." She glares at him, not that it does much good- he still looks like he's barely containing his laughter. "All right, all right. How about I get you another beer and we plot revenge?"

"Okay," she agrees, sniffling, and sits down on the brown couch. It's clearly seen better days. She knows the feeling.

It's a short trip to and from the kitchen, and he returns soon. He hands her a bottle and opens his own. "So what are you going to do?" he inquires, sprawling down on the couch next to her.

She traces her fingertips over the bottle, not opening it yet. "First Granddad and I are taking back Spaulding. After that… we'll see."

"Alan or Bill," Jonathan muses. "I don't know who I should be rooting against."

Lizzie gives him a sharp look. "I didn't say I'd be on Alan's side forever, did I? I'm not some dumb blonde, Jonathan. I think I could take Spaulding from him if I had to."

"Are you sure? Reva told me about Alan holding you prisoner, you know. You didn't exactly have the upper hand then."

She'd always wondered if he knew. Sometimes she had lain awake hoping that Jonathan would find out and come save her and let her go with him this time. Knowing that he'd been content to leave her with Alan hurts, even though she knows that he couldn't have risked returning. Sarah's more important than she is. And yet…

"I can handle him," she insists, shrugging off the memories as best she can. But Jonathan's eyes are on her, so she hesitates but finally adds, "But I don't want to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She looks down at her beer. "You'll probably laugh."

"You should be used to that by now," he says dryly. "Come on. What?"

"All right, fine." She still can't meet his eyes. "I hate being a Spaulding. I hate feeling like my whole life is some sort of chess game, like I can't trust anybody. Alan's done so many awful things, and I hate him for what he's done to us, but… he's my grandfather, Jonathan. I just… I guess deep down I've never stopped hoping that he'll realize that if he wants a Spaulding heir, it doesn't have to be Sarah. That I'm not useless, or stupid, or crazy. And I just wish that after we get the company back he'll realize that I'm good for more than just looking pretty and having children. I know it shouldn't matter, not after… not after everything. He shouldn't matter. But I can't help it."

Jonathan doesn't respond. She steels herself for one of his angry outbursts, but is surprised when he sighs. "I know the feeling," he says heavily.

She steals a glance at him, watches him take a long drink from his beer. He looks like he's lost in his own complicated past, and it's hard to resist the urge to lean her head on his shoulder. He frustrates her so easily, but she's always been grateful to him for how well he understands her. Once she'd thought that that could help her win his heart- he knew she wasn't evil, he knew what it was to do awful things out of the desperate need to gain or keep love.

He looks down at her and abruptly smirks. "Make sure to get it on tape when you take Bill down, okay? I want to see it for myself."

She makes a face. "Jonathan!"

"What? Just because I'm not gonna say 'I told you so' doesn't mean I turned into some kind of saint."

She shakes her head, then slowly says, "Videotape? You know, that might not be such a bad idea."

He grins and clinks his bottle against hers. They drink at the same time in a silent toast to Bill getting his.

* * *

The sofa's really not that comfortable to sit on for long. Lizzie's still trying to adjust to the idea of sleeping on it when Jonathan says, "You can have the bed, if you want."

"But it's yours."

"You're the guest, and you never get to share a room with Sarah."

"But the couch-"

"It won't kill me, Lizzie," he says, but he looks pretty doubtful of that himself.

She thinks it over, glancing from him to the couch and back again. She doesn't want to sleep there, but she doesn't want him to have to, either. "We could share the bed," she offers hesitantly. "It won't be the first time. And it's big enough."

"All right," he finally agrees. "But you'd better not move around so much."

"And you'd better not snore," she retorts.

He doesn't snore. He falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow but makes little noise.

Lizzie's not so lucky. She lies on her side of the bed, holding herself stiff, looking from Jonathan to Sarah and back again and listening to them breathe. She's afraid to shut her eyes, that she'll wake up back in her hotel room, alone except for Roxy. Sleeping here isn't like being in bed with Bill, who would curl up with her and make her feel cherished and wanted. But that had been a lie, and while Jonathan was hardly a saint, she could count on him to tell her the truth.

She stares at his back until she falls asleep, and doesn't remember her dreams.

* * *

Looking over her shoulder for a few weeks is easier than dealing with Bill. Lizzie's not sure why she's surprised by this. It makes sense, after all. At least with Alan she knows what he can do and how she can combat it. Bill just keeps coming up with new ways to break her heart.

Jonathan lets Sarah's daycare know that she won't be in for a few weeks, and Lizzie watches her while he's at work. It's hard at first, since Sarah's so devoted to Jonathan, but she trusts Lizzie more and more every day. Soon Lizzie catches herself lapsing into daydreams about what it could be like if she stayed with her daughter, leaving all the corporate drama to Bill and Alan. She could just be with Jonathan and Sarah, watch her daughter grow, squabble with Jonathan… just live.

"I don't want to go back," she blurts out one night.

Jonathan's looking through the fridge while she's standing in the kitchen doorway. She can't see his face, but she does note his back stiffen. "Too bad you didn't figure that out two months ago," he finally says.

She stares down at the floor. "I know."

She hears him shut the door, follows him out to the living room. They both settle onto the couch in what has become a familiar pattern, and he hands her a beer.

They drink in silence for a little while. "So you want to stay," he finally says.

"Would it be so bad?" she asks quickly.

"No. You know that. I wouldn't have asked you to come with me last time if I'd thought it would be. And Sarah does need you in her life, Lizzie. But we both know why you really want to stay, and it's not because you like using fake names and worrying about someone finding us."

"This isn't about Bill!" she insists, getting to her feet. "It's not!"

"Are you sure about that?" he asks patiently. "It's not like you're taking the breakup that well. You working with _Alan_ made that pretty obvious."

"I'm not doing it to hurt Bill. That's not what this is about. I'm trying to fix things."

He gives her a long look. "Lizzie. Come on."

She stares back, but is the first to give up. She huffs indignantly and sits back down next to him. "Okay, so I want to hurt him, too," she admits. "But that's not why I want to be with you and Sarah. She's my _daughter_, Jonathan. The thought of going months between visits, and of having to get her to recognize and trust me all over again every time I see her… Everything's so messed up, and it's like she's the one thing in my life that makes sense."

"So you could stay with us," he says doubtfully. "You could end contact with everyone but Reva. You could handle not seeing your mom, or your brothers and sister, or Billy, or Lillian. You could be away from Roxy and Bill."

"Bill-"

"You're still in love with him," he tells her. "I know you, Lizzie. You'd be fine for awhile, but you'd get more and more homesick, and one day Sarah and I would wake up and you'd be gone. You want more than this."

"Don't you?" she asks.

He slowly shakes his head. "What would I have if I went back there? Reva? I probably wouldn't even have a job, if Bill's in charge of Lewis now."

"You'd be home," she says quietly. "I know you wanted to stay in Springfield, Jonathan."

"I've wanted lots of things. It's just as well I didn't get to stay. Getting what I want usually doesn't work out that well for anybody."

"I know the feeling," she mutters, and stops resisting the urge to lean against him.

He drapes his arm over her shoulders, slouching back against the couch. "No, you cause problems by trying to get what you want," he teases, sipping his drink, and laughs when she glares up at him.

"You think you're so smart," she mutters.

"No, I just know you."

She makes the mistake of meeting his eyes. He's so serious all of a sudden, the familiar teasing and angst vanished, replaced with something else entirely. His arm's still around her, warm and safe.

For a moment she can't quite remember how to breathe.

She does, however, know how to stand up, and she promptly does so. "We really need to stop drinking together," she manages to say.

A wry smile crosses his face. "I'll drink to that," he replies, holding his bottle out to her before tilting his head back and doing just that. She tries not to stare at his throat, and promptly finishes off her own bottle.

* * *

She can't stay, no matter how badly she wants to, and they both know it. It weighs on her more and more each morning when she first sees Sarah, each night when she stares at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Time is going by too fast, and soon she'll have to go back, if only to keep people from tracking her down.

One morning she knows it's time to go.

Jonathan catches her eye while she's trying to force herself to eat breakfast. The smile that had begun to cross his face fades. "Time already?" he asks.

She nods. "I should leave." Sarah's in her high chair, eating cereal, and Lizzie goes to her. Sarah smiles up at her, offers a handful of cereal. Lizzie strokes her soft hair, blinks back tears. She can't imagine waking up to mornings without Sarah anymore. "Tomorrow."

Jonathan nods. "So what do you want to do today? It's your last day, so you decide."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just don't say shopping or manicures or anything like that."

She tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. "Okay. I don't even know what… it doesn't matter. Just," her voice catches, "just as long as it's with both of you."

He goes over to her, hugs her. She holds on and whispers, "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I'm so sorry."

"I know," he murmurs. It's the best he can do.

* * *

The day passes too quickly. All too soon it's nighttime, and Lizzie can't fall asleep until Jonathan rolls over, tucks her against him, and murmurs, "Quit thinking so loud and sleep already."

He's already out of bed when she wakes up. She finds him in the living room, watching cartoons with Sarah curled up sleepily on his lap. Lizzie joins them, and Jonathan immediately passes Sarah to her. He's been good about giving her lots of chances to hold Sarah.

They all just sit and watch television in silence for awhile. "I don't know when I can come back," Lizzie finally says. "Granddad- he'll be suspicious, and if he knows I know where you are…"

"I know," Jonathan says. He smoothes Sarah's hair, his eyes on Lizzie, and a sob catches in her throat. She can't imagine staying away from Springfield, but she can't imagine going a day without this, without Sarah's quiet warmth and sunny smiles and Jonathan's teasing and understanding. She's caught between both her families, and she can see the inevitable breakdown coming.

"You should leave soon," he advises her. "Then you can get back before rush hour."

"Yeah."

Sarah tilts her head back, peers up at her curiously, and Lizzie does her best to fake a smile even though her eyes are swimming with tears. Sarah's always been quick to cry when people around her are upset, and Lizzie doesn't want to make her daughter unhappy, not even for a second.

Jonathan touches her arm. "You'll be back," he says quietly when she looks at him. "Maybe not for awhile, but you'll be back. And maybe one day, when we don't have to hide anymore…"

"When Alan's dead," she finishes flatly. "I have to wish for my grandfather's death, because then I can get my daughter back. This is so messed up, Jonathan."

"If he had his way, _I'd_ be dead," he points out.

"If you had your way, _he'd_ be dead."

A sharp smile crosses his face. "Damn right he would, if that's what it takes for Sarah to be safe."

She looks back at the television, feeling guilty all over again for her torn loyalties. "I'll keep an eye on him. I'll make sure he never finds you, even… even if that means waiting even longer to see you and Sarah again."

"I know," Jonathan says, and she realizes with a shock that he actually means it. Somewhere between letting him leave Springfield and sitting with him now, in this moment, he'd started to trust her again. She stares at him, and he smiles a little. "Come on. You'd better eat something before you go."

The suggestion feels like a peace offering, and she holds tightly to it. She's wondered if she and Jonathan would ever truly make peace, or if they'd just co parent and do whatever it takes to keep Sarah safe. It feels like they're one step closer to really being okay, no matter how many ugly things they've done to each other in the past.

"Thank you," she says softly. Her daughter's in her arms, and Jonathan's smile is sincere, and she knows this is one of those moments that'll get her through the days until she can be with them again.


End file.
